Hidden in Closets and Fields

Ghosts in the Closet, Treasures in the Field
Current mood: reflective
Category: reflective Religion and Philosophy

NOTE: This was a sermon I wrote for a small group study, then an email I sent to a bunch of my friends back home. Now it is a blog. Hope it does for you what it did for me.

I believe in ghosts.

Not necessarily those spirits of the dearly departed coming to haunt those who sleep in old, worn-out houses, but spooky enough just the same. I also believe in time travel, but not in the traditional idea of us physically going back in time. It’s interesting to me how often I’ve heard people say, “If I could only go back and tell my younger self this . . .” or “If I only knew then what I know now . . .”

Despite our sorrowful talk of wanting to go back and speak to our past, it most often happens that the past speaks to us here in the now. Something from your past will come out of nowhere and tell you something about yourself or the world around you that will literally dessimate everything you thought you were wise about and clued-into. You’ll lose your concentration and you’ll turn pale like you’ve seen a ghost. Because in some ways, you have.

I was just visited by a series of ghosts and experienced my own sort of surreal sense of time travel. No, I’m not on drugs and although I’m a bit of an insomniac, my senses are fine. Here’s what happened: I recently formatted the hard drive on my old computer, but before deleting everything, I went and transferred the old files on it to a disc. Then, curiosity compelled me to examine said files. There, I saw the ghosts.

At least a dozen reflections of the past began to speak to me as my prior journal entries flooded the screen in the same pristine typeset in which this blog is composed. Emails and letters not even as recent as the initial months of my move to California, but from EARLY in my college years and late in my High School ones. File after file was a gut-wrenching set of steps down Amnesia Avenue. I cried and laughed and was shocked and puzzled and was entirely, fully, and utterly overwhelmed.

I’ve wondered a great deal about the pros and cons of blogging and journaling and doing any sort of thought-spilling for others beyond myself to see. I’ve wondered if such things should remain private and not be let out from the heart in which they hide. But seeing those old journal entries, saved Instant Messenger conversations, and silly little short-story memories, I was reminded of the tear-jerking necessity of preserving the here and now in some way. So even if you don’t read, I feel compelled to write. If you’ve made it this far, then bear with me just a moment longer and maybe I can bring some encouragement to us both.

Looking at those old files, I was amazed at how much I had forgotten. I had forgotten how badly I initially wanted to become a teacher before the disillusionment set in. I had forgotten how easily I fell in love before becoming the much more frustrated romantic that I am now. I had forgotten how casual it was for me to speak of faith and of God and of Christ. I’ve since grown up a great deal, and my faith has become a more precious and almost fragile thing. I tend to speak of it less and handle it more carefully not because I am ashamed of it, but because it feels more precious to me, almost like a treasure I’m afraid of mistreating.

Jesus told a story about that. I never really understood it all until now, but Jesus once said that “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.” (Matthew 13:44)

I never could make sense of that story. First off, why does the guy hide the treasure again once he finds it? Why wouldn’t he just take it? Then, on top of that, he sells everything he owns to buy the field. Why the crap would you sell everything you own to purchase a place where you can keep a treasure hidden instead of just taking the treasure with you while nobody’s looking? Well, the lesson to be learned is this:

Some treasures you take with you, and some you have to leave where they are. I put it in bold so you’d read that if you read nothing else. That’s really the point this time around.

You see, I think back on the joys of my younger days and I want them back. I want to be in love again the way I was in those first two years of college. I want to be as involved in the arts as I was throughout college and high school. I want a community of friends who are happy to be where they are instead of worrying to death where in heaven’s name the rent is going to come from. I want a job that makes me feel fulfilled in my life’s journey and that doesn’t drain my very essence by the time I’m supposed to clock out.

But I wake up and find myself in California, thousands of miles from the friends I had before and from the family that gave me the chance to have them. I have to fight the urge to do something, anything drastic to recapture those glory days. I think about moving home or rejoining with old friends or going back to school or anything other than being where I’m at now.

But some treasures have to stay where they are.

Some loves have to stay in your heart. Some dreams have to stay in your head. They have to stay there because that’s where they belong. Just like that treasure hidden in that guy’s field: part of what makes them precious is where they’re found. I guess that’s why he thought it was worth it to buy that whole huge field, even if he had to sell everything else he had to do it.

It’s amazing, too, that the man sold all he had to own the field of treasure, instead of selling the treasure instead. And the story stops there. He doesn’t dig the treasure up or even dig for more treasure as far as we know. He’s just thankful he found it and he’s content that he knows where it is. I wish we could be more that way about things. I wish I could learn that lesson to the core of my soul. Meanwhile, it’s something to think about, at least.

So I stopped reading all those files long enough to write all of you a couple thoughts and let you know I’m still alive. I shut the ghosts up and sent the past back to the past where it needs to be. Tomorrow’s something new. Maybe not something better, but who can say?

Just try to remember that when tomorrow holds your treasure, you can’t have it today. . . . You can’t.

You have to wait and be patient sometimes, but don’t be afraid and don’t give up. And if you can forgive my cheesy poetics, I’ll remind you that life is full of fields.

And you never know what you’ll find buried in them.

– Reed, 2003

Here There Be Monsters

There’s a truth I’ve been running from all my life and it catches up with me only about once every two or three years. This is a scary world.

It’s terrifying, and for one principle reason. It’s a terrifying world because for all of our knowledge, all of our experience, all of our history, all of our technology, and all of our talking — we still don’t really know anything.

We have a bunch of facts about all these different subjects of discussion and we cling to them like they float around where there’s no land in sight. But all of our facts don’t answer our questions. Not the scary ones, anyway. Like will our lovers really leave us? Will our loved ones survive the night? What are we going to do when the money is gone? What’s going to happen to us when all of our secrets finally do hit the fan? (You can insert your own question here, there are millions of them out there to choose from.)

You know, when you’re a child, monsters are real. They’re nasty, smelly, ugly, slimy and just waiting to devour every vulnerable little one of us with their sharp, uncountable teeth. They hide in closets, under beds, behind curtains, and sometimes even in the weird crack near the corner of the ceiling. When faced with the absolute terror of these beasts, you run to the shelter of Mommy or Daddy or whoever keeps you safe and they assure you, ever so lovingly, that while there IS a Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, and Tooth Fairy, there are certainly NO monsters.

And isn’t that funny? Because you find out a few things as you get older. You find out that there really isnt a jolly fat man, a giant rabbit, or a dainty quarter-giver. But the monsters are most definitely real. Not only are they real, but theyre dangerous. While you were sleeping, they crept near your bed and planted a seed in you somewhere — in some secret place. The seeds werent invisible, but no one was looking for them because you were just a child. There were all different kinds of seeds: addiction, abuse, co-dependency, self-consciousness, racism, greed, violence, cowardice, selfishness, deceit, and countless more. Monsters. All of them.

They attacked this generation before us and the generations before them. They use the things people say and the ways people act to make the ground fertile for the seeds they plant and when you get older, the worst thing happens: The seeds become brand new monsters, threatening even to turn you into a monster yourself cos this world is dog-eat-dog, right?

Okay, let me hop off this analogy and just get right to the point. When youre young, things happen to you that alter your perception of things in such a way that doesnt always manifest itself fully until adulthood. Then, when you become an adult, you spend all of your time trying to figure out why you cant make sense of things and why you find it harder and harder to hold onto an idea of justice or goodness when theres so much unfairness and evil in the world. Psychiatrists may call these feelings neuroses or disorders. I just call them monsters.

Now, in the time Ive spent out here, Ive gone through many of what most people would call tough times. Money troubles, physical ailments, severe inconveniences, and occasionally just plain old rotten luck have hit me in spades since becoming an LA resident. Living the dream, right? Well if you’re still reading, let me tell you what Ive figured out about pursuing dreams…

When we pursue our hearts dreams, what were really trying to do is kill all those nasty, slimy, ugly monsters that we’ve always been afraid of.

Just think about it. Those who dream of success are really just trying to kill their fear of failure. Those who dream of wealth are trying to kill the monster of poverty. And I really feel bad for those people dreaming of importance because theyre trying to kill one of the nastiest monsters out there: worthlessness. We hope and we pray for our dreams to come true because we believe that when the dreams come true, well be happy and the monsters will leave us happily-ever-after alone. If we reach our dreams, we wont have to worry anymore. If we reach our dreams, life will be consistently livable from that point forward.

But theres a dark side to this moon. Because sometimes you get what youve always wanted (the wealth, the relationship, the praise, or whatever it may be), and the monsters still dont go away. You’re still anxious, still scared, still always on the defensive. When that happens, you can become bitter or angry. You might even begin to resent the dream that you once clung so tightly to. Some people turn to alcohol or drugs. Some people turn to music or friends or exercise. And yes, some people go to God.

Those people who have nothing to turn to become lifeless shells. Their soul withers up within them and they die long before their body expires. Youve seen them. You know the kind of people Im talking about. When the dreams die, the monsters win. Then where does that leave us?

So we keep chasing our dreams, doing anything we can to make them come true, believing all ego-boosters and denying all party-poopers. Well fight all sorts of battles and overcome all sorts of obstacles to reach the dream that will kill the parts of us we cant live with. Cause we still don’t know anything about anything. We dont know how to deal with who we are, so we blame all the bad parts on someone else. We havent learned how to deal with pain, so we lash out at others, injecting even more pain into the worlds bloodstream. Were scared of what we might become, so we spend all our lives chasing these . . . dreams.

I’m a religious man. And I think a lot of people look to religion because they’re scared or because they’re busted or because as long as you cling to religion, there’s probably going to be somebody out there who agrees with you and you won’t have to be alone. But that’s not why I’m religious.

I’m religious because I was born with one flaw (among many). I am a hopeful man. I see the problems that face me and that face my friends and I am terrified that the worst will happen, but I am hopeful that somewhere, somehow, somebody can change things for the better. And when I reach out to that hope, when I clench my heart around that wish — I call that praying.

And who I am praying to is beyond my comprehension. I call it God and I call it Christ (cause, specifically, I’m a Christian). And I let go along time ago of that compulsive need for everybody to agree with me, but it doesn’t stop me from buying into what I sincerely believe in my center. I believe Jesus talked about that kind of hope that we need when things get bad and when we’re overcome. And at the end of the day, I like what He had to say. I think it bears some repeating.

Lifes tough. Theres no getting around that, religious or not. And here there be monsters. Sometimes theyre even so real that they have faces and names and we spend all our time running from them, chasing after the one thing were sure will save us.

Now, theres nothing wrong with pursuing dreams. Theres nothing wrong with wanting more. Theres nothing wrong with trying to do better for yourself or your family. Theres not even anything wrong with being selfish every once in a while. But theres one thing you have to make sure you never do: Never put your hope in dreams, in good feelings, or in idealized situations. If you make the mistake of always counting on those things to save you, then youll die lost. Put your hope in something beyond yourself.

Sometimes youre hurt, sometimes youre confused, sometimes youre overcome, sometimes youre depressed, sometimes youre out of strength, sometimes youre just not good enough, and sometimes its all just too much. But it’s been written to “not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9) And elsewhere, it was written down that, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

So much could be implied from that and so much already has been. For my two cents, I think its just saying that we dont have to be afraid of the scary stuff in life and we dont have to be afraid of ourselves. I think Hes saying its all right that things arent what we wish they were and that were not quite who wed like to be. I think thats just Christs way of telling us everythings going to be ok.

And whether you believe in it or not, we could all stand to hear that from time to time.